The PezBerry Files
by lightblue-Nymphadora
Summary: A series of one and two shots. Most are based on Purrpickle's "Pieces".
1. Santana Lopez on Love

_**Prompt #9: Santana fucking Lopez was **__not _going to write a stupid-ass essay about _love_.

Valentine'd Day 2011 was the day Will Schuester grew up. He'd had it with all the fighting and bickering in glee club. True, he knew what none of it was about, but still…they were supposed to be a family. He'd set them an assignment—to write a page or more on the last time they felt real love. He was expecting the bare minimum from Puck—a page on something highly inappropriate. From Mike and Tina, five or so pages chronicling their glorious Asian love and their families. From Finn he expected (and got) exactly two pages bemoaning how much he loved Rachel and wanted her back.

What he was not expecting was Santana's response.

_I almost lied for this essay, Mr. Schue. But then I realized that it would do me no good to lie, and it would do you a world of good to hear the truth. I figure you're used to me being blunt, so here goes: You're a fucking idiot sometimes. _

_Don't get me wrong, Mr. Schue, I love you to death. Glee club? What we do and how you see the best in us when we can't see it ourselves? It's the best part of my day. Now let me tell you why I'm so upset with you, and maybe you'll understand my epic rudeness. Fair warning: this won't be a page long. You're lucky I'm even handing it in. The assignment you gave us was to describe the last time we felt real love. You said, "Write about your girlfriend or boyfriend. Write about your family. I don't care. But I want it turned in tomorrow." That's highly presumptuous. (See? I can use big words too. Berry must be rubbing off on me.) See, some of us don't have glorious Asian love, or on again-off again high school romances. Some of us have "friends with benefits" or "sometimes girlfriends" and that's all we can seem to manage. Some of us can't even use the "Forever alone—but at least I have my family" fallback. Not everyone has Mr. and Mr. Berry to bake them vegan cookies and teach them Broadway hits. Or Mrs. Hummel to be totally chill when their son knocks up the president of the Chastity Circle. Here's how it works in my house: if you want attention, fuck up. If you fuck up, you get bailed out once, and then kicked out. Otherwise, there's nothing but a weekly statement from the bank saying one of the adults who shares your last name put some money into your account. _

_But back to your question. The last time I felt real love was exactly an hour ago, immediately after you gave us this stupid assignment. I walked out without saying a word because I didn't want to break down like a mental case in front of everyone. I left because I didn't have an answer to your question. And my girlfriend, being awesome and perceptive like that, followed me. I cried on her shoulder for about ten minutes before I pulled myself together. So to amend your assignment task…the _first_ time I experienced real love was when I realized I love Rachel Berry. _

Will sat back, mouth open. He had been writing notes back to the kids on their papers, but now he didn't know what to say or think. Resolving to talk to Santana privately tomorrow, he put her paper on the top of the stack and reached for Rachel's. His face turned white, and he stopped reading after

_Santana Lopez is a cheerleader, member of glee, and my girlfriend. The last time I felt real love was when she dragged me into the Cheerios' private bathroom before class and…._


	2. Tell Me Who

_**LbN: Prompt #14. It's Finn and Rachel's conversation. This will be the ONLY Finn-centric story. Also probably the only one where he's not a raging douchebag. I'm not exactly a huge Hudson fan...**_

* * *

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Do you want me to?"

"No."

"Any particular reason why?"

The older girl smirked.

Sigh. "You just want to mess with him."

"Can you blame me?"

"You have one week to watch him suffer. If he hasn't figured it out by then, I'm telling him."

"You're then best girlfriend ever."

* * *

Finn had given Rachel the weekend both out of respect for her new relationship and to give himself time to recover from the fact that they were no longer Finchel. He wasn't going to be the annoying ex this time, he told himself. However, he was more than a little curious as to who usurped his position in life. Thus, he sought out Rachel that Monday afternoon before glee. "Hey! Have a good weekend?" he asked.

"I did indeed. It was very fun. How was yours?"

"Good," he said. "Kurt and I attempted to build a go cart."

Rachel turned to him, eyes wide. "Oh god, is he okay?"

"Perfectly fine. We did, however, give up. So….how did your date go?"

"Very well, thank you Finn."

"…are you going to tell me?"

"No."

"Rachel," he whined. "Tell me who he is."

Rachel shook her head, giving her ex-boyfriend a smile. "No offence, Finn, but I don't see how it's any of your business. We are not, as you know, romantically involved anymore."

"But I _should_ know," Finn tried again, following her into the choir room, "I need to make sure he's good enough for you."

"While that's extremely sweet of you, I can assure you I'm in good hands."

"Then why won't you tell anyone who you're dating?" the tall boy frowned, looking at her suspiciously.

Rachel smiled, sitting down. "Because she asked me not to."

Mr. Schue was about five minutes into his speech on how Michael Bolton was a good pick for sectionals before it hit Finn. Had Rachel said _she_?

* * *

**Tuesday**

"Mike, Tina," Finn said, running up. "Can I ask you guys something?"

"Sure, Finn," Tina said as they walked to history.

"Do you know who Rachel's dating?"

"No," the both said, huffing.

"She won't tell us," Tina said.

"Probably because she knew you'd ask us," Mike told him with a grin. "No worries, I'm sure she'll tell you soon."

"Yeah…maybe."

* * *

**Wednesday**

Finn walked with Sam and Quinn to biology. They were discussing possible song choices for the Michael Bolton assignment.

"I'm doing Missing You," Sam said. "It's the only one I can stand to listen to."

"I'm sitting out in respectful protest of how bat shit insane this assignment is," Quinn said.

"I'm thinking about Time, Love and Tenderness," Finn told them. "But I don't know. I don't want to—" He stopped, spotting Rachel coming out of the janitor's closet. She looked way too happy for second period.

"Watch it, Hudson!" Azimio snapped when Finn bumped into him.

"Sorry, bro. Wasn't paying attention." When he looked back, the door was closed. He peeked in as they passed, but didn't see anyone. "Damn!"

"Er…dude? What's up with you?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Hey, you two wouldn't happen to know who Rachel's dating, would you?"

"Finn, give it a rest," Quinn said, rolling her eyes. "She's happy."

"No, no, I know that. I'm not trying to steal her back or anything, I'm just curious."

"No idea, man," Sam told him, shrugging.

He turned to Quinn.

She shrugged. "Probably someone with a lot of patience. No offence."

Finn didn't say anything. He was thinking too hard….

* * *

**Thursday**

"Mercedes, what is that?" Finn asked as they sat down to lunch.

"It's some kind of Greek food. Mom's on an international kick this month. It's not half bad, but I kind of miss my tater tots…."

"I hear you there," Finn said, laughing. He waved to Artie, Mike and Tina as they came up.

"Picked your song yet?" Mercedes asked him.

"Just to piss Schue off, I'm singing Can I Touch You There," Artie informed them matter-of-factly.

Coke came out of Finn's nose as he laughed. "You're my freaking hero, dude. Please tell me you let Puck in on this?"

"He's on guitar and backup."

The whole table laughed.

Finn spotted Rachel in the lunch line and turned back to them. "I know I'm sounding like a broken record here, but—"

"No, Finn," Artie said.

"We haven't heard anything about who this mystery guy is," Tina told him.

"Girl," Finn corrected with a smirk.

"WHAT?"

"No way," Mike said.

"Rachel's dating a girl?"

"This is going to be a hot damn mess."

Finn grumbled as he took a bite of his cheese sticks.

"You could always just ask Kurt," Mercedes said.

"He's been out sick all week. He wouldn't know."

"Please…if she told anyone, it would be him. Plus, you know homeboy is the king of gossip at this school."

Finn smirked and nodded. "Mercedes, I owe you some tater tots."

"Damn straight."

* * *

**Thursday Evening**

Finn had picked up Kurt's favorite soup from the Thai restaurant, and had even made sure that they left out the chilies. He drove by the Lima Book Nook and grabbed a special edition copy of _The Picture of Dorian Gray_. He even stopped by the supermarket and grabbed pints of Bonnaroo Buzz and Mint Chocolate Cookie ice cream. This was one hell of a bribe. Kurt had better have information.

By the time he got home, his mom and Burt were already making dinner. "I brought Kurt some soup," he told them.

"That was nice of you, sweetie," Carole said.

"Did I hear soup?" an unnaturally disheveled Kurt croaked, shuffling into the kitchen.

"Yeah," Finn said, pushing the bag toward him. "It's your favorite, minus the chilies. And there's ice cream. And I got you this…in case you get bored after they take your tonsils out."

Kurt picked up the book. "Special edition! Wait…" he quirked an eyebrow at Finn. "What do you want?"

"He can't do something nice for you?" Burt asked, laughing at his son's cynicism.

"Nice started with the soup and ended with the 35 dollar book he just gave me…. What gives."

Finn blushed and had the decency to look sheepish. "You know everything that goes on at McKinely…even when you're not there."

"True," Kurt said, clearing his throat.

"Do you know who Rachel's dating?" he asked desperately.

"Possibly."

"Kurt!" Finn whined shamelessly. "Come on! I'm getting a migraine from not knowing!"

Kurt grinned at him. "I know who it is. Unfortunately, the stipulation for her tell me was that I didn't tell you. However," he said, thumbing through the pages of his new book, "this was one hell of a bribe. So, I'll give you three very good hints. How does that sound?"

"It sounds like our kids are far too good at extortion," Burt muttered to Carole.

"Fine," Finn said. "That sounds fair. But the hints have to be legit—and I already know it's a girl. I can still take that book back," he added with a smirk.

Kurt licked the spine. "Now you can't. Here are your hints. One: think school colors. Two…." He paused and thought for a minute. "Under the control of a tyrant. Three: Possibly related to Lucifer."

"What kind of hints were…" he trailed off, staring blankly out the window.

"Finn, honey?"

"Buddy, you okay?"

Kurt just smirked and took his soup and book into the living room.

* * *

**Friday**

"What's up, Finnocence?"

Finn held out a sheet of notebook paper.

"What's this?" Santana asked, taking it.

"A list of a bunch of sites online that ship vegan candy, makeup, and other stuff you wouldn't even think needed to be vegan " he said. "I fucked up, but you take care of her, okay? Not only this stuff," he said nodding to the list. "I mean it."

Santana smiled and hugged him. "Will do."


	3. Nonviolent Payback

_**LbN: The prompt #29 has to do with Santana spaying a message about Rachel's ass on her locker. You'll see it in part 2. :)**_

When Santana knocked on Rachel's door that Friday afternoon, it was one of her father's who answered. Wordlessly, he beckoned her inside. It was weird—they were never home that early. "Er…Mr. Berry—"

"Rachel was attacked."

Santana stopped breathing. "What? Is she—"

"She's going to be fine. Listen, Santana, I know you guys have come a long way. And I know my daughter trusts you. But I need to know…."

She knew what he meant. "I swear I knew nothing about it. Rachel was missing from glee and we were all worried. I think Mr. Schue was actually looking for signs of the apocalypse. What happened?"

"First, know that she'll be fine," Hiram said, coming into the entranceway. "It was just…more vicious than your run of the mill slushie facial."

"And you should also know that Figgins, who is normally useless, suspended the boys involved."

"Boys?" Santana whispered, panicking.

"Nothing like that!" Leroy assured her. "She was walking to class outside and they… er…decided to use her for paintball target practice."

Santana flinched.

"At close range. I'll admit I didn't understand the problem fully until I saw her."

Santana was close to hyperventilating now. She was torn between dashing up the stairs to her girlfriend and tracking these bastards down and beating them to death. She chose the former. Halfway up the stairs she stopped and turned back to Rachel's fathers. "It okay if I stay tonight?"

"We'll tell your mom where you are," Hiram said, nodding.

Santana continued up the stairs and down the hall to Rachel's room. She knocked quietly before pushing the door open. "Ray Bear?"

"My dads tell you what happened?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore, but mostly just…." Tears welled up in her eyes as Santana slid into bed next to her. "Why does everyone hate me so much?" A couple of tears rolled down her cheeks, but she wiped them away.

Santana pulled the blanket back and gave Rachel a once over. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Her girlfriend was covered in small bruises. A couple had broken the skin. "They expelled them?" she grunted.

"Suspended. They'll be back in six days."

"SIX FUCKING—"

"Shhh! Yeah." Rachel smiled as Santana began to rant. Somewhere between "castration" and a very creative method of dismemberment, Rachel cut back in. "I appreciate your enthusiasm in defending me, but I must insist you choose a method of nonviolent payback."

Santana was quiet for a moment. "Did they say anything?" she asked. "Not that it makes it better, but did someone put them up to it?"

Rachel shrugged, and then flinched. "They just shouted 'Hey Berry!' and when I turned there were about five of them around me. I didn't know paintballs hurt so much. Anyway, Azimio and a few of the hockey guys grabbed them to keep them from running when coach Beiste came to help me. Figgins chucked them out as soon as our parents were there. Nice of him to give them six days. And it was only that long because Sylvester and Beiste were on a warpath." She smiled then, and scooted closer to Santana. "He was only going to give them three days, citing the school's fighting policy, but Beiste lost her mind and started yelling before my dads could. She said it was his fault that things like this took place—that he put up with so much bullying and violence that it's started to escalate. I think he took it pretty seriously, but he couldn't suspend them for more than six days since I wasn't seriously injured and they _technically_ didn't beat me up. Surprisingly their parents were very concerned for me and didn't argue the punishment."

"Good of them," Santana said, huffing. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm okay."

The younger girl was quiet for a moment. Then an evil smile spread across her face.

Before she could say anything, Rachel jumped in. "Whatever you're thinking is a colossally bad idea."

"I haven't even said anything!"

"I know that look. You're either plotting ways of getting me into interesting positions for sex or you're planning on causing chaos at school. Since I'm black and blue, I'm going to assume it's not the former."

Santana chuckled and gave her a kiss. "Don't you worry about it Ray Bear," she said. "I promise I will choose a method of 'nonviolent payback'.

"Santana…."

She grinned and kissed Rachel again. "Nope. I'm done talking about it. Hows about I orders us some crazy vegan pizza and we watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tonight? I already got your dads' permission to stay over."

Rachel let out a sigh and nodded. She knew she wouldn't get anything else out of Santana. She was just hoping her girlfriend didn't get arrested, whatever she planned on doing. "Fine," she said, wincing as she got out of bed. "But we're watching Power Rangers, not Ninja Turtles."


	4. Nonviolent Payback pt 2

**Nonviolent Payback pt. 2**

Rachel walked into school Monday morning to find _all you haters be jealous of berry's fine ass _spray painted across her locker in bright red. As she stared at it in disbelief, she didn't know if she was insulted or flattered. She decided to be insulted at the grammar and capitalization, and flattered at the sentiment. Trying not to grin, and knowing exactly who the culprit was, she opened her locker and grabbed her books for first period.

Unsurprisingly, she didn't stay in English that long. It only took Figgins fifteen minutes to call her out of class.

"Miss Berry, I assume you know what this is about?" he asked sternly.

Rachel noted that Mr. Schuester was there as well, but had said nothing as of yet. Ever the actress, she frowned and said, "I'm guessing it's about that offensive reference to my body."

"Yes," Figgins said. "And that's not the only offensive reference to body parts we found this morning. There were four more, calling out the boys who shot you for things like erectile dysfunction and gonorrhea."

It took all of Rachel's will power not to laugh. "Well it certainly wasn't me! I stopped by Coach Beiste and Coach Sylvester's offices to thank them for standing up for me last week. You can—"

"We don't think it was you, Rachel," Will said. "We think it was Santana. Everyone knows how protective she is of you—"

"Wasn't her," Rachel said calmly. "While I do not argue the fact that she is incredibly protective of me, to the point of being reckless, there's no way she could have done this."

"Why is that, Miss Berry?" Figgins asked.

"Well, as some of my fellow glee members can attest to, I'm incredibly clingy on the best of days. The neediness intensifies due to stress, sickness and injury—the last of which was experienced last Friday. Thus, Santana took it upon herself to stay with me this weekend and make sure I felt better. She's been with me the entire time. You can call and ask either of my dads."

"This morning?" Figgins asked.

"Yes, sir," she said. "I was craving vegan pancakes, and as Santana refuses to cook anything vegan, but was still hell bent on spoiling me, she was forced to do a quick stop by the Veggie Shack. This threw our morning routine off a bit, and we were running late. She had to go home to get clothes, so there's no way she would have been able to do all that and end up here."

Will and Figgins glanced at each other.

"If you say so, Rachel," Will said, nodding.

"We'll be painting your locker this afternoon," Figgins informed her.

"Thank you, Principal Figgins."

* * *

On Tuesday, over a hastily applied coat of white paint, the message appeared again in black.

Rachel really did laugh this time.

"Glad you're amused," Santana said, walking up. "I got interrogated by Figgins and Schuester. Can you believe the nerve of them? Accusing me! I'm the dictionary's definition of innocence."

"Just please don't get caught," Rachel said in an undertone. "And why would you spray their lockers? They're not even here to see it."

"Please…with Facebook and YouTube? They probably saw it before Figgins did."

* * *

Wednesday was blue.

* * *

Thursday was gold, a big gold star added for effect.

* * *

On Friday, Rachel's smile fell when there was only the white paint. Even hearing that Santana had been mysteriously suspended that morning didn't do anything to affect her disheartened mood. With a sigh, she went over to her locker and opened it.

A shower of gold confetti stars fell out on her.

Finn and Mike were walking by at that moment. Both laughed hysterically.

"Normally, I hate her," Finn told Rachel. "But I have to admit she has style. Hey, I think she left you something," he said, pointing to her locker.

Rachel spotted the small bag. Inside were vegan chocolate kisses. Her phone buzzed.

_They nabbed me. 2 bad, cuz I hadz some great things planned for when those idiots got back to school. U no how many things u can rig a locker 2 do? Those Looney Tunes r on 2 something. Managed 2 rig the spray paint in all three lockers & load urs w/ gld strs b4 they caught me… See? Nonviolent payback…_

She smiled and shook her head.

* * *

Once again, she was pulled into Figgins's office. This time, both Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury were there.

"I thought you said it wasn't Santana," Figgins said.

"I didn't think it was," Rachel said. "I'm still trying to work out how she did it on Monday…."

"Tagging is pretty serious, Rachel," Will said. "She's lucky she didn't get arrested."

"Not that I don't agree with you, but why am I here?" Rachel asked. "You caught her. What do you need me for?"

"We're worried about how protective she is of you," Emma said gently. "She's willing to do some pretty…stupid things to defend your honor."

"I know that. Which is part of the reason we're both transferring at the end of this grading period."

"WHAT?" all three adults yelled.

"It's been decided, and you can't change our minds…mostly because you'd also have to change our parents' minds."

"Rachel, where is this coming from?" Will said, sitting next to her.

Her mouth dropped open. "Are you serious, Mr. Schue? I know you're pretty invested in glee club, but you cannot be that blind. This school isn't safe for kids like me. It took a death threat for you guys to do anything about the Karofsky v. Kurt situation, and then he was still allowed back to school. Kurt left, and nothing changed. It wasn't the wakeup call that all of us were expecting. It didn't make the staff do anything to even slightly stop the malicious behavior of our peers. Sure, glee gives the kids who can sing and dance a little reprieve, but it's not enough. It hasn't been enough for a while. And I tried to tough it out, but…." She trailed off, shaking her head. "The last three years were put into essay form and sent to the School for Creative and Performing Arts. They offered me a scholarship. Santana's still discussing it with her parents."

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" Will asked.

"Over—he thinks I'm overreacting!" Rachel repeated to no one in particular. "And when will I not be overreacting, Mr. Schue? When I get raped?"

"Rachel!"

"No. I've been tossed in dumpsters, slammed into lockers, had horrible rumors spread and rather skilled, yet offensive, comics drawn about me…. I've been slushied exactly 845 times, and now paintballed into a black and blue mess. But you think I'm overreacting?"

"I told you he'd take it this way," a voice said from the doorway.

Everyone looked up to find Santana standing there.

"Miss Lopez, I believe I suspended you," Figgins said.

"You did. But there's something I need to discuss with my girlfriend and it couldn't wait. So I had my mom drive me back. She jacked my car for the week since I got suspended," she explained. "Anyway, it looks like I arrived at the right part of the conversation. Rachel, my parents agreed with your parents about me being an uncontrollable wreck once you left, so it looks like I'm going to Cincinnati too." She grinned as Rachel jumped up and hugged her. "Really, we should just move the entire glee club. They'll be useless without us here," she teased.

"I'm not in the mood, Santana," Mr. Schue grumbled.

"Why? Because you've just realized that you've based most of the glee club's reputation on one person, and that you simultaneously failed to protect that one person in any way, shape or form from the rest of the school? Or is this mood swing coming from the sudden realization that everything Rachel just told you is true, and that you're going to have to work ten times harder to keep this from happening again?"

"That's not fair, Santana."

"I'm sure you think it isn't. Come on, Rachel. I'll walk you to class."

Rachel stood and followed Santana out, leaving the three adults to hurl accusations at each other in privacy. "You're really coming too? Wait…how did you do that so fast? I had to wait a week for my answer."

"My dad knows a guy," Santana said, smiling. "And yes."

"We should tell the rest of the glee club together."

"On the exact same page as you, Berry. I'll hide out in the choir room until glee. See you later."

Rachel kissed her and walked into her biology class. As the teacher called roll, she watched through the window as Santana spray painted a large gold star on the nearest locker.


	5. Desperate Measures

_**LbN: Prompt 32: "Face it, Lopez, you've got no game" conversation that comes in Part 2. **_

* * *

Rachel scanned the halls of McKinley High, not seeing the particular football player she needed, but spotting the next best thing. She made her way over quickly. "Good morning Finn, Quinn."

"Rachel," Quinn said, taking Finn's hand.

"Hey Rachel," Finn said.

"Not to disturb either of you, but I urgently need to speak to Noah. Have you seen him lately?"

"Yeah, he's down in the weight room. Actually, he's probably finishing up if you want to catch him before class."

"Thank you, Finn. I'll see you both in glee today." She hurried off down the stairs. As she made her way to the weight room, she went over the plan again in her head. It was crazy, but she knew Noah would help her. Out of all the gleeks, she trusted him with matters like this the most. Plus, she was desperate. And as Jafar eloquently explained in _Aladdin_, desperate times called for desperate measures.

By the time she got to the weight room, Puck was just coming out. "Fancy meeting you here," he said, smiling. "And with only a minute until class. Is everything okay? The zombies must be coming if you're risking being late to class."

"I need to talk to you," she said, nodding to the back staircase.

"After you, my tiny Jewish princess."

She checked to make sure no one was coming down the stairs. "I need your assistance with a slightly underhanded plan."

"You had me at hello," he said, grinning.

"You're reputation for being a womanizer and a bit of a stallion in bed is well known and, from all the research I've done, well deserved."

"Go on."

"Think anyone could live up to it?"

"Not a chance in hell. Many have tried, all have failed," he said in his best Mortal Kombat voice.

Rachel smiled. "But I bet you can think of someone who'd be incensed if you pointed that out."

Puck stared into space for a moment. Then he grinned. "Do I even want to know what you're planning."

"First, you should know that my end goal is totally honorable, even if the methods are not. Second, I'm planning a party. And you're going to be there."

Puck nodded. "Tell you what: you give me more details, and I'll throw the party."

Rachel smiled.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Rachel was quiet. She knew she was freaking out the various members of the glee club, but she was actually enjoying it. Plus, she needed to think. Noah may be taking care of the preliminaries, but it was still up to her to pull everything off. She sighed with relief as the final bell rang. She'd been making flow charts of possible outcomes to this scheme all day, and was getting tired of looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching.

She was the first one into glee, as always, but the rest of the group filed in quickly after her. Still not in the mood to talk, she set about doodling set designs for her original musical—tentatively titled Little Diva in a Big World.

It took only ten minutes of the diva's silence for the rest of the gleeks to start looking for signs of the apocalypse.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Is she sick?"

"Q, what did you do?"

"It wasn't me this time."

"Maybe she's pissed at us for the Doritos incident?"

"She said she forgave us, and that the prank was pretty funny."

"Guys?" Will said. "I can't really concentrate with you all whispering."

"Sorry, Mr. Schue," Finn said.

"No worries," he said, glancing over to Rachel. He nodded at her, quirking an eyebrow.

The rest of the club shrugged.

Rachel, seeing all of this in her peripheral, tried not to laugh and kept doodling.

"Anyway," Will said. "Let's talk about jazz….does anyone know when jazz got its big break?"

As one, the club turned to Rachel.

She kept drawing.

"No one?" Will prompted. Silence. "Rachel?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, Mr. Schue. What were you saying?"

"Are you feeling okay, homegirl?" Mercedes asked.

"Perfectly fine, Mercedes," she said cheerfully. "But thank you for your concern."

"I was just asking if anyone knew when jazz really became popular…." Will repeated.

"1920s," she answered.

That was it. Rachel never gave one-word answers. Now even Quinn was worried. The only one who didn't look thoroughly frightened was Puck.

"Uhh…Rachel, maybe you should take today off," Kurt said. "You're not acting like yourself."

"I suppose I am a little tired. Do you mind, Mr. Schue?"

"Not at all, Rachel," Will said. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Thanks, Mr. Schue. Puck, would you mind driving me home?"

"I got ya, Berry," he said, grabbing his bag and jacket.

Once they were far enough away from the choir room, Puck let out a chuckle. "Other things on your mind today, Berry?"

"I just can't concentrate. I keep thinking about the party and how many things can go wrong and what if the plan backfires and—"

"Whoa! There's the Rachel we all know…. Look," he said as they walked through the parking lot. "Nothing's going to go wrong. Don't worry about the party. Everything will work out fine."

"I hope you're right."

* * *

_**Back in the choir room**_

"Are you guys sure nothing happened today?" Will asked.

"Not that I know of," Artie said.

"She was pretty desperate to find Puck this morning, though," Quinn said. "And now that I think about it…since when does she ask Puck to drive her home? It's always Kurt or Mercedes."

"You guys think they're…you know?" Finn asked.

"Stop being such an idiot, Man Boobs," Santana snapped. "They're not getting it on."

"A bit snippy today, aren't we, Santana?" Quinn said with a smirk.

"Don't even start, Q. Anyway, Puck and the Dwarf probably just have a Legion of Jewish Superheroes meeting to get to. Are we going to have glee or not?"

With much muttering, everyone went back to discussing their jazz assignment.

* * *

_**LbN: Hey everyone! Thanks to all of you who've been reading, reviewing, alerting, etc! Glad you're liking these so far- I'll have part 2 up soon! There's a poll on my profile, if you want to vote on which Glee ships I write more of. Right now it's the four girls, but I'll have the guys' up after this one. It'll be up for about a week. Thanks again for reading!**_


	6. Desperate Measures pt 2

**Desperate Measures pt. 2**

By Wednesday, the halls of McKinley were buzzing about Puck's super-exclusive, password only party. Those who hadn't received a text from him were begging friends to tell them the password.

Rachel was just trying to figure out if he'd done anything illegal to secure the party space.

"Don't worry," Puck said, grinning. "A guy owed me a favor is all. The Puckasaurus won't let anything ruin your special night."

"One last thing, Noah?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't I get an invite?" she asked with a smirk.

"Fuck…knew I forgot something." He lowered his voice. "Password's Breadstix."

* * *

That Friday, Rachel waited until she knew the party was in full swing before heading out. "Dad? Daddy?"

"In the kitchen, Princess!"

She found them grilling shish kabobs. "Chicken killers," she grumbled playfully. She didn't really begrudge them their addiction to chicken and bacon (seriously, they were worse than Quinn), but it was still fun to mess with them. "One of my glee friends is throwing a party. We didn't have any pressing plans for the evening, did we? I'd like to go."

"Nope! Just kabobs and movies for us. You go have fun with your friends."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Do you need a ride?"

"Mercedes is picking me up. I'll see you later!"

* * *

"Can't believe Puck talked you into partying with us, Rachel!" Mercedes shouted over the music.

"One cannot live on Streisand concert DVDs alone!" Rachel yelled. "Have to get out sometime!"

They continued to dance, holding up their cups when Mike came around with a pitcher of God-Only-Knows-What.

"Drink up, ladies!" he yelled, bobbing his head to the music.

Rachel spotted Puck and Santana across the crowded dance floor and flushed. She was tempted to watch what unfolded, but decided against it. She nodded toward the chairs and she and Mercedes went to sit.

* * *

"What the fuck you talking about?" Santana was just buzzed enough to be amused by the boy's previous statement, but not drunk enough to let him get away with it.

Ignoring her glare, Puck slung his arm over Santana's shoulders, "Let the Puckasaurus lay it down for you. You've got no game."

"Excuse me?" Santana pushed him away. "Oh hells no. You did not just say that."

He smirked. "You've been mentally scissoring Rachel for fifteen minutes. Never gonna happen."

Santana narrowed her eyes, "Are you fucking doubting me?"

"Two weeks to get into Rachel's thong. You lose, you buy the booze for my next party."

"You're going down."

As he walked away, Puck pulled out his phone. _Puckster is out__._

* * *

_Thank you, Noah._

"Who are you texting, Rachel?" Kurt called. He nodded to the garden, and they all trooped out. It was quieter out here, and they could talk without yelling.

"Noah. He just said he's glad I made it."

"I am too," Tina said. "It's about time you had some non-Broadway fun."

They laughed.

"I'm surprised," Kurt said. "This has been a fun, drama free party. Not usually the case with Puckerman."

"I think you spoke too soon, homeboy," Mercedes said, nodding towards the door.

Santana was walking towards them.

* * *

"Hey guys," Santana said. She laughed when they all just stared at her. "Glee club allegiance, remember? Stop looking at me like that. I'm too drunk for awkward silences."

"Sorry, Santana. Force of habit," Rachel says, smiling.

It took everything Santana had not to fall over faint at that smile. She was too drunk for this. Why did she take Puck up on that stupid bet? "Uh…yeah. Hey, could you drive me home?" she asked. "I think I'm getting heat stroke from this place, and I should NOT be behind a wheel."

"Well seeing as I'm drunk too, I don't think that would be a good idea," Rachel said.

"Oh, right…Breadstix is just three blocks away. We could go get something to eat and then come back when we're okay again?" It didn't come out as smoothly as she'd wanted it to, but it looked like Rachel got the message. She grinned and held her hand out to the other girl. She could blame this on the booze if it didn't work out.

"We're…going to stay here," Kurt said as Rachel took Santana's hand. He watched the pair walk off and turned back to the group. "Did that actually just happen?"

* * *

An hour and a half later, they were both sufficiently sober. Santana was laying on the charm, and Rachel, though she found it amusing and incredibly sexy, couldn't help herself any longer. She had to come clean. "Santana? I should tell you something."

"What's up?"

"I know about your bet with Puck," she said. She smiled at Santana's deer in the headlights look. "Calm down, I'm not mad. In fact…."

"Got the hots for me, Berry?" Santana asked, grinning. "Wait…" she said when Rachel didn't respond. "Seriously?"

"I may have…put Puck up to goading you a bit. There was no way I would make the first move. And I was hoping that, after you won the bet, we could make it…more than a one-time thing? I know it was stupid and underhanded and "sneaky" is probably not a good color on me, but—"

"I don't know about that…" Santana said, smiling. "I sort of like your devious side."

Rachel looked up at her, speechless.

"I'm not going to…you know…skip through fields of lilacs with you or anything," Santana said. "But…if you want it to be more than a one-time thing…I guess I'd be cool with that."

"Really?"

"Really. And out of curiosity…."

"What?"

"Am I going to win this bet with Puck?" Santana asked with a smirk.

"Definitely," Rachel said. "But not tonight."


	7. Happy Anniversary

**Happy Anniversary**

"Hi Clara!" Rachel said into the phone, grabbing a basket. She looked around the store, deciding to start with staples. "I need a favor."

"Sure, darling!" Santana's mom said. "What can I do for you?"

"Can you email me the recipe to the chicken mole enchiladas you make? I'm going to attempt to make them for our anniversary dinner."

"Of course! Give me a few minutes and I'll send it."

"Thanks Clara!"

"No problem, darling. I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye." She slid her Blackberry back into her pocket and went in search of milk. Five minutes later, the phone buzzed, letting her know she had an email. With a smile, she glanced over the list and set about collecting the ingredients for dinner.

* * *

"I thought you were a vegan?" Kurt said, helping Rachel put all of the groceries away.

"Gave it up about a month ago. Remember that local play I did? The one about the boy with the sociopathic imaginary best friend? Well, those weren't fake eggs I was eating in the breakfast scenes."

"Got it. Will you be okay making all of this by yourself? I'm meet Karofsky."

"Karofsky's in town?"

"Finished junior college and he's thinking about NYU. I told him I'd meet him for coffee. Then I'm heading over to Brittany's for a Beyonce night."

"I'll be fine. Text me when you get there?" This was an old habit that Rachel couldn't let go of. When she, Kurt and Santana had first arrived in New York three years ago, they'd always sent texts to let the others to let them know where they were. Their parents had insisted upon it, but it was one of the things that had helped them through that first stressful year.

"I will."

* * *

This was not going as planned. Not at all. She'd mixed everything together, and measured just right. It still looked like they'd have enough to feed thirty people. Rachel huffed and moved on to the next step of the recipe.

* * *

"Now, you'll see most, if not all of these fallacies demonstrated in political campaigns—especially debates…."

Santana doodled in her notebook as the lecturer droned on. She didn't want to be here. It was her anniversary, damn it! Three years with her tiny diva, and she'd managed not to cock it up too badly. She wanted to be home snuggling with Rachel, watching cheesy science fiction movies from the 80s. Tapped the "enter" key on her laptop and waited for it to come back to life. Good. Rachel was online.

_**Whatcha up to, Ray?**_

_I'm planning our anniversary evening. Why are you online during a lecture, Santana?_

_**Because I wants my Ray of Sunshine and this is the only relief I'm getting for another two hours. Why did I pick back to back classes?**_

_I believe you said something about getting everything out of the way on Monday and Tuesday so you'd have time to "do homework, drink heavily, and sex me up". _

_**Oh yeah… :)**_

_I'm not okay with contributing to your academic delinquency right now. :D_

_**Too bad. You have to keep me entertained.**_

_Well, I may have to leave you to your own devices for a bit…._

_**Why?**_

_Because._

_**Rachel Barbara Berry, my little gold star, you know how I am with secrets.**_

_It's not a secret, baby. It's a surprise. _

_**Raaaaaaaachelllllllllllllll!**_

_Nope. Pay attention to your lecture. I'll see you in a couple of hours._

_**Rachel!**_

_R. has signed off._

Santana huffed and returned her attention to the man at the front of the hall.

* * *

"Pumpkin seeds? What the hell? How did I miss that?" Rachel griped. "Why would I even need those…?" she muttered to herself. After rummaging on the counter for a moment, she located her phone under a bag of rice and dialed Kurt. "Hello, Kurt. Are you still hanging out with Karofsky? Oh…hi David! Right, I was just going to ask you to pick up pumpkin seeds if you were going to swing back by home. No big, I'll just do it without them. Yes…yes, I'll make enough to have leftovers. Yes, David can come too. Just don't come over before twelve tomorrow—I have a feeling Santana's going to keep me up late. Pfft…virgin ears, my ass. Yes, Santana's potty mouth is rubbing off on me. David! Ewww! I'll see you both tomorrow. Bye."

With a sigh, Rachel stared at the kitchen. "Alright…time to do some serious cooking."

* * *

The smoke alarm was blaring when Santana entered her apartment. Smelling only faint smoke and hearing an angry rant about defective sensors and promises of smashing coming from the kitchen, she couldn't help but smile.

"Need some help?" she asked, laughing at the intense look of relief that flowed over her girlfriend's face. Rachel didn't try cooking often, meaning things never went perfectly.

"Oh thank god. It was screaming for twenty minutes!" Huffing, Rachel greeted Santana with a kiss after she stood on a chair to shut it off.

"Aww," Santana kissed her back, grinning, "You're just too short, babe."

"Don't make fun," Rachel pouted.

"What were you making?"

"I was trying to cook the rice when it went off. It didn't even start smoking that much!"

"So no rice?"

"Yes rice, but the microwave kind instead of the fancy stovetop kind. Then I tried to make these fried dessert thingies, and…well…"

"So no fried dessert thingies?"

"Unfortunately no. The lumps of unidentifiable charred matter in the trash was dessert. Luckily two men came to my rescue."

"Two men?"

"Ben and Jerry," Rachel said, opening the freezer to reveal a plethora of ice cream.

Santana grinned and kissed her. "Well _something_ smells amazing."

"Mama Clara was kind enough to email me the recipe to her chicken mole enchiladas. And as I'm no longer living a strictly vegan lifestyle, I figured this would be a good special occasion meal."

"I love you."

Rachel laughed. "Good, 'cause I love you too. Go change into something comfy so we can eat."

"Aye aye, captain."

* * *

Dinner turned out great, much to Rachel's relief. The enchiladas hadn't tasted exactly like Mama Clara's, but they were a decent stand in.

Santana had begged to watch Wedding Crashers, so they were cuddled up in bed watching Vince Vaughn get molested by a psychotic redhead.

"I think she might have a sex addiction…." Rachel quipped.

Santana snorted into her shoulder. "I'm going to the bathroom real quick."

"Want me to pause the movie?"

"Nah."

Rachel yawned and stared at the screen again. In the middle of her favorite scene, the screen went fuzzy. "What the hell? Santana! Something's up with the screen."

"Really?" the younger woman asked, snuggling back into bed. Rachel was messing with the remote control, so she didn't see her smiling. "Here, let me see."

Rachel handed over the remote just as Santana's face came onto the screen. "What the—"

"I figured since the movie was about crashing, I'd go ahead and crash the movie," on-screen Santana said. "Rachel Berry, I love you more than I can articulate without sounding like a Hallmark commercial. When I think of all that we've been through…all of the love and forgiveness and courage you've shown me through the years…I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you—graduation, your first Broadway show, our kids' birthdays one day. Rachel Barbara Berry, will you marry me?"

Rachel felt Santana slip her arms around her, and a second later saw the ring she was holding. She turned in the younger girl's arms and kissed her.

"I take that as a yes?" Santana guessed a few second later.

"Yes!" Rachel said, tears in her eyes.

"Hey, none of that," Santana said gently. "Put on your ring so I can text a picture to Kurt and your dads."

Rachel laughed and let Santana slip the ring on her finger. "This is the best anniversary ever," she said, giggling.

"So far," Santana said. Snapping a picture with her phone. "I have years to top this, now."

* * *

Over breakfast the next morning, their phones were buzzing nonstop.

_Congratulations, Princess! ~Dad and Daddy_

_It's about damn time! ~Q_

_Yay! ~Britt_

_Told you she'd like the ring. Dave and I will be over for lunch tomorrow, and we can start wedding planning. ~Kurt_

_Dayum, girl! ~Mercedes_

_Yes, I helped Santana hack the video. Keep it on the D/L though. Pretty sure what we did is illegal. ~Artie_

_Take care of her. ~Finn_

* * *

_**LbN: There's still time left to vote! Thanks to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, etc.! Much love, you guys :)**  
_


	8. Check Yes, Juliet

_**LbN: Prompt 83: "Rachel and Santana disappeared for a week." Song is Check Yes Juliet by We the Kings. :)**_

_Check yes Juliet  
Are you with me?  
Rain is falling down on the sidewalk.  
I won't go  
Until you come outside.  
Check yes Juliet  
Kill the limbo.  
I'll keep tossing rocks at your window.  
There's no turning back for us tonight._

Rachel's 18th birthday party went off without a hitch. She prided herself on her acting abilities, but tonight had been especially hard. She smiled, though, and made small talk with her family and friends. She babbled on about New York and tried not to make eye contact with the one person who was most on her mind that night. Her dads had lifted the "Santana Ban" after three days of begging, so she felt she shouldn't push her luck. It was hard though, what with Finn trying to flirt incessantly….

The guest had finally cleared out. She'd even managed to sneak a kiss goodbye from her girlfriend. She headed back in to help her fathers clean up.

"Did you have a good time, birthday girl?" Leroy asked, smiling.

"I did! I'm glad the rest of the glee club made it."

"Yes…."

"That Finn boy is pretty into you, it seems," Hiram commented.

"Because he knows I'm not into him. He has this bad habit of wanting what he can't have. It's annoying."

Her dads laughed.

"Yes, I imagine that can get old," Hiram said. "Still, maybe you'd want to—"

"Daddy, listen. I know you don't like Santana, but we're together."

Her father sighed. "I know. Rachel, I hope you understand that we're not trying to make you miserable here. I'm sure you think you're very much in love with her, but we're still not sure about her intentions."

"If this was some elaborate practical joke, she would've gotten to the punch line already," Rachel told them gently. "She's not patient enough to date me for a year and a half, just as some scheme. She loves me. And even though she knows I've forgiven her for…past indiscretions… she still tries every day to make up for it. To make me feel special. But I understand your concerns," she added. "I don't want to fight about this tonight."

"No," Leroy said, smiling. "It's your birthday. What did she give you?"

"Santana? A penguin pillow pet—inside joke—and a necklace. And she wanted to take me to Breadstix, but she thought it would be pushing her luck with the whole Santana Ban thing. Listen, I'm going to bed. I'll…talk to you both tomorrow."

Leroy and Hiram glanced at each other, but nodded.

"Goodnight, sweetie."

"Goodnight, Dad, Daddy!"

* * *

_Run baby run  
Don't ever look back  
They'll tear us apart  
If you give them the chance  
Don't sell your heart  
Don't say we're not meant to be  
Run baby run  
Forever will be  
You and me_

Rachel waited until she knew her fathers were both asleep. She pulled the duffle bag she'd packed out of the closet and set the letter she'd written on top of her laptop. Her heart pounded as she peeked out into the hallway. No sound or light was coming from her dads' room. She crept as quietly as possible down the stairs. With one last look at her house, she silently slipped out the door.

* * *

_Check yes Juliet  
I'll be waiting  
Wishing, wanting  
Yours for the taking  
Just sneak out  
And don't tell a soul goodbye  
Check yes Juliet  
Here's the countdown  
3...2...1... now fall in my arms  
Now they can change the locks  
Don't let them change your mind_

Santana sat on the hood of her car, humming to herself to stem the rising tide of panic she was feeling. As much as she knew that she shouldn't play the "What If" game at the moment, she couldn't help it. What if Rachel's dads caught her? What if Rachel got cold feet? What if…god fucking forbid…her dads actually succeeded in convincing her that Santana was up to no good? She shuddered and pulled her jacket around her. Feeling her phone buzz in her pocket, she took a deep breath and looked at the text.

_On my way. xoxo_

She smiled, relieved. A few minutes later, she saw a small figure walking up the road. When Rachel finally reached the car, Santana pulled her into a strong hug. "Let's go," she said finally. "We can call Q from the car."

* * *

_Run baby run  
Don't ever look back  
They'll tear us apart  
If you give them the chance  
Don't sell your heart  
Don't say we're not meant to be  
Run baby run  
Forever will be  
You and me_

"Hello, my two adorable love birds," Quinn chirped.

"Britt, tell Q to lay off the caffeine," Santana said, laughing as she drove.

"We're parked in front of the school. Kurt and Mercedes will take your car back, and B and I will drive you to the airport."

"You're amazing, Quinn," Rachel said.

"I know. See you guys in a few."

Rachel punched the button on the dashboard and ended the call. Silently, she took Santana's hand.

"We're almost there," Santana said. "You're sure about this?"

"Absolutely positive."

* * *

_We're flying through the night  
We're Flying through the night  
Way up high,  
The view from here is getting better with  
You by my side_

Brittany cried when they reached the airport. "Be safe," she said, hugging them both. "And don't let any evil clowns steal your money at Times Square."

"We'll be totes safe, Britts," Santana said.

"You're both nuts," Q said affectionately, hugging Rachel. "But we love you. Call us if you need anything."

"We will," Rachel said. "Thank you, Quinn."

"Anytime. Just keep an eye on that one," she said, nodding to Santana.

"I always do," Rachel said, laughing.

* * *

_Run baby run  
Don't ever look back  
They'll tear us apart  
If you give them the chance  
Don't sell your heart  
Don't say we're not meant to be  
Run baby run  
Forever will be _

Rachel and Santana disappeared for a week. Pestering Brittany, Kurt, Mercedes and Quinn did no good, even though they all kept looking at each other and giggling. By Wednesday afternoon, Quinn was getting sick of all the questions. Fathers Berry and Mr. and Mrs. Lopez had grilled her for ages about where the girls were. She'd stayed quiet, though, as had Brittany. Actually, Brittany hadn't stayed quiet, but every answer she gave was different. Quinn's personal favorite was the taller blonde's assertion that Rachel and Santana had, in fact, run away to Madagascar to become witch doctors. She giggled as she took her seat next to Brittany.

"What's so funny?" the dancer asked, giving her a kiss.

"Your Madagascar rumor," Quinn answered. "It was inspired."

"I watched the movie yesterday and couldn't help myself."

Quinn chuckled as Mr. Schuester came into the room. She snuggled into Brittany's side as the man began an enthusiastic, and slightly homoerotic, speech about Michael Bolton. In the middle of the talk, her phone buzzed.

But it wasn't just her phone. Brittany's, Mercedes', and Kurt's all went off at the same time. They grinned at each other and all checked.

Quinn screamed, grinning like a maniac.

Brittany giggled and hugged Quinn.

Mercedes yelled, "Aw, hell yeah!"

Kurt let out a happy squeak and started bouncing in his seat.

"Guys, what's up?" Mr. Schue asked, confused.

"Nothing!" they all answered, but their matching grins said different.

"This is about Santana and Rachel, isn't it?" he asked. "You guys, if you know something, you really should tell their parents. They're really worried about them."

"This is the first text we've gotten from them since they left," Mercedes said.

"What's it say?"

"Nothing," Kurt said. He was obviously trying very hard not to cry. "It's…it's just a picture." He broke down then.

"Oh, Kurt," Quinn said gently. She went over and hugged him.

"Grilled Cheesus, guys, why won't you just tell us what's going on?" Finn asked, aggravated by all of this.

But Mr. Schue suddenly had a theory.

* * *

_You and me_

On Monday, everyone found out.

Glowing, and uncontrollably smirking on Santana's part, the girls showed up to school with matching wedding rings.

"How was New York?" Mercedes called.

"Amazing," Rachel said breathlessly when they reached the group.

"Badass," Santana said. "And it turns out my wife is a bit of a hustler when it comes to blackjack." She grinned and kissed Rachel on the cheek.

"WIFE?" the rest of the glee club yelled, noticing the rings.

"How much did you win?" Brittany asked, bouncing up.

"Enough to cover our apartment for about five months," Rachel said.

"Told your parents yet?" Quinn asked.

"Oh yeah," both girls said.

"I'm disowned," Santana said. "Rachel's dads expected this. They blame me though, so I don't see that relationship getting any better soon."

"Well we're happy for you," Kurt said.

"Thanks, Kurt," Santana said.

"ALL YOU MOUTHBREATHERS, MOVE IT ALONG!" Coach Sylvester shouted. "Santana, Rachel, I hear congratulations are in order. So as my wedding gift to the miniature Barbara Streisand wannabe, I will not eviscerate you for missing a week's worth of practice. Back to your meaningless existences," she said with a nod.

"When are you going to tell her that you quit?" Rachel mumbled as they walked to class.

"Later today, Mrs. Lopez," Santana said. She gave her a kiss. "See you after math."

_You and me_

_You and me_


	9. Cupcakes and Penguins

_**LbN: This one's shorter because it's not based on a Pieces drabble. I had this thought after the penguin pillow pet thing from last chapter. :)**_

"Cupcakes!" Brittany yelled as Rachel walked in.

"Santana's running late," Rachel informed them, setting the boxes on the coffee table. "What are we watching?"

"My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic," Quinn said, nodding to Brittany. "What kind of cupcakes are these? And how did you have time to pick up cupcakes?"

"I asked Noah to pick them up for me, and then he drove me from my voice lessons. And the cupcakes in the top box are vegan lemon…the bottom ones are regular strawberry."

Both Brittany and Quinn dove for the bottom box.

"Come on guys….They don't taste that different."

* * *

"These are really good," Brittany said. "Where's this bakery?"

"It's the new one by Breadstix," Quinn said, glancing over. "Are you two going to save any for Santana?" she asked, laughing.

"They're so yummy," Rachel said, giggling.

"Okay…."

* * *

"So cute. It's like…God and Taylor Lautner cuddled and made a gay angel baby," Rachel murmured.

"The fuck is wrong with you two?" Quinn asked. The other two had been more and more incoherent as the night went on. She spotted the box of cupcakes and had a slight idea. She hoped she was wrong. "I'm going to put the rest of these in the kitchen." She grabbed the cupcake boxes and her phone and went into the other room. Checking to make sure the other girls were still engrossed in the dance movie (she had no idea which they were watching—the all looked the same to her), she hit five on her speed dial. "Santana…I think we might have a problem. Are you on your way? Good…no, she's fine. Er…I think…Just get here. You won't believe me if I tell you."

* * *

"She's HIGH?" Santana hissed. "How did—?"

"Puck," Quinn said. "That's the only thing I can think of. She said he picked up the cupcakes."

"Why would he spike them? He's not even here to see the—"

"BAAAABYYYYYYY!" Rachel squealed, flinging herself at Santana. "I wants my cuddles."

"Dear God, she's talking like you," Quinn said. "I'm calling Puck."

"Puckerman! Why are our girlfriends high as kites?" Santana growled into the phone a few seconds later. "Rachel is spinning around the living room, babbling about purple trees and lemon drops."

"Why is it my fault?" Puck asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"Because the only thing they've had to eat tonight are the vegan cupcakes you picked up earlier."

"I didn't do anything to them. Oh…wait…."

"What?" Quinn asked.

"Er…that new bakery belongs to a friend of mine's dad…I forgot about the secret menu my friend has. Vegan cupcakes, when TK is working, means 'special cupcakes'."

"WHAT?"

"He wanted to drum up business! I might have told him about our epic cupcake sales."

"Oh for god's sake, Puck!" Santana said.

"Just make sure they don't go anywhere tonight. I'll tell TK to go easy on the ganj next time."

"Santaaaaaaaaaannnaaaaa!"

"I'm coming, Rachel…."

"This is going to be a long night," Quinn said.

* * *

"Rachel?"

"Hmmm?"

"Please be still."

"But the world is so pretty!"

"I know, but it's time to sleep."

….

"Santana?"

"Yes, Rachel?"

"I'm a penguin." *Giggle*

"I'm happy for you."

"A peeeenguin!"

"Rachel?"

"Hmmm?"

"Please go to sleep."


	10. Surprise

_**LbN: For Kiarcheo, who gave me the "surprise" idea. :)**_

"Nothing?"

"I didn't say 'nothing'. I said we're going to dinner and a show," Rachel clarified, smiling into the phone.

"Right, it's just…normally you have something up your sleeve."

"Santana, honey, when was the last time any of my surprises worked?"

Santana chuckled. "Right…well I'll see you in a few hours then."

"Okay. Love you!"

"Love you too, Hobbit."

Rachel smiled and hung up. It was, by now, a well established fact that she could not surprise Santana. Oh, there had been a few plans that had almost worked…and Santana was always a great sport, acting surprised and whatnot. Still, Rachel knew. And Santana knew that Rachel knew. It was just one of the many fun quirks to their relationship. Every year, Santana would ask what they were doing for their anniversary, and Rachel would say, "It's a surprise." Santana always figured it out.

This year was different. This year, Rachel had a surprise planned that was 100% Santana proof. Grinning, she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went to make another phone call.

* * *

Santana didn't want to be at work—especially if she had to fire people that day. "Rich, you know I'm usually fine with doing this, but…."

"What?" her boss asked.

"I don't want to have to fire people on my anniversary," she said. She knew she was whining, but didn't care. "It seems a bit heartless that I'm taking away someone's living, just to go and live it up with my wife later."

"It's part of the job, Santana."

"I know. And have I ever complained? Have I ever argued with a client and tried to keep a guy around? No. I'm not saying don't fire the guy. Just…send Menkin or someone else today."

Her boss huffed. "Fine," he said, waving her away. "But you're on double duty next week."

"Got it. Thanks, Rich." Santana walked out of the office, breathing a sigh of relief. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten into the "Professional Termination Specialist" but she was good at it. Some days it was way too much though. She returned to her office to find a pile of paperwork. "Seekins?" she called to her secretary. "What is this?"

"All of the files from last month's firing spree," he answered, peeking in. "Apparently there were not one, but two suicides, so the higher ups want you lot to go through all your notes and make sure we have our asses covered."

"Great…when do I have to have this finished by?"

"Time allotted: two weeks," he said, reading the memo.

"Thanks Seekins."

* * *

"Hard day?" Rachel asked as she and Santana sat down to eat. They'd decided on their favorite Italian restaurant because, according to Santana, it was almost as good as Breadstix.

"Tedious day," Santana said. "So," she said, smiling. "What show are we going to see?"

"I thought about adding to our Wicked count—"

"Which would make it 16 times that we've seen it…."

"Don't worry, I decided to branch out," Rachel said, laughing. "It's a dance show. Smaller theater, so we'll be supporting our fellow up and coming stars."

"Always down for that. No surprises this year, huh?"

"As adorable as I find your 'Babe, I'm sooo surprised!' face, no. I think at this point we've firmly established that you are both a master sleuth and a master at getting information out of me."

"Well it's not that hard," Santana countered, smirking. "All I have to do is—"

"Honey, we're in public," Rachel reminded her.

Santana laughed. "Tell me about this show, though. What's it like?"

"It's supposed to be like Cirque de Solei meets Stomp the Yard. At least, that's what the program said."

"That sounds equal parts awesome and petrifying. I can't wait."

"Yes, I remembered your affinity for torturing yourself and me with clowns. This sounded like a good opportunity to get you your yearly clown fix without having to get up close and personal like last time," Rachel laughed.

"Oh come on…. Circus Gothica wasn't that bad."

"I didn't sleep for three weeks, Santana. I thought the batchildren were going to seek vengeance on my soul."

"Still better off than me and Kurt."

"Told you not to anger the Hellephant…."

* * *

The lights went down in the theater and a man dressed in a lime green catsuit did back flips across the small stage. He stopped just on the edge and raised the curtain to reveal….

"Clowns," Rachel whispered with a shudder.

Santana took her hand. "No worries, babe, I'll protect you."

* * *

"Superheroes fighting evil clowns? This is seriously one of the best anniversary presents ever," Santana said. They were in line for ice cream during intermission, and Santana was basically bouncing off the walls.

"Who knew you could tell a decent action story through interpretive dance and minimal dialogue," Rachel said.

"You're smiling."

"I'm happy," Rachel said. "It's our anniversary, and despite the abundance of clowns, I'm having a good time."

"It's not an 'I'm happy' smile…it's an 'I'm plotting something' smile. Should I be worried?"

"I'm not plotting anything. Two strawberry, please," she told the man at the booth.

"Sure you're not…." Santana said as they made their way back to their seats.

* * *

The second half of the show was interactive. Shooting Nerf guns at the oncoming hoard of clowns was oddly satisfying. All of a sudden, one of the larger, more menacing dancing clowns pointed up. The other clowns shrank away in fear and the superheroes rejoiced as another superhero descended from the ceiling.

"Wait…BRITTANY?" Santana yelped. It was drowned out by the cheering of the audience though.

Rachel laughed and cheered as Brittany launched an interpretive dance ass-whooping on the clowns.

Santana just stared.

"Surprise!" Rachel said as the final curtain fell.

"Seriously?" Santana squeaked.

"The show was going to be our anniversary outing anyway, but then Brittany called last week and said she was doing a guest appearance. We decided to surprise you. She's doing interviews with the kids from a few dance schools tonight after the show, but she promised to call tomorrow so we can hang out."

Santana laughed. "Wow, okay…you finally got me on one."

"I'm already planning how to top this next year."

"Oh god…."

The two of them waved as Brittany took a bow on stage.


End file.
